


In Another Life

by blue spider lily (lycorissprengeri)



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But everyone is fine, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Families of Choice, Fluff, Happy Beginning, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn, Terrible In Between, but NO Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 23:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17538242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycorissprengeri/pseuds/blue%20spider%20lily
Summary: Nathan Wesninski Junior died during labor 18 years ago.Now at 19 year old, Neil Abram Josten enrolled into Palmetto State University as the Foxes' substitute striker.





	In Another Life

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm doing anymore

_"Push, Mary! I can almost see the head, come on! Push harder!"_

_"Get more hot water and towels! Hurry!"_

_"Get it out! Get. It. OUT!"_

_"I will, but only if you would just fucking PUSH!"_

 

**— 19 JANUARY 1987 —**

 

In her field of profession, she had met countless men and women who could frighten a person with just a glance. But as one of the most sought-after doctor within the underworld, she doesn't have the time to be scared or intimidated, not when she was busy soaking her hands in the blood of wanted criminals as she digs out bullets out of their flesh and stitched their skin back after a knife fight.

There are only a few who could actually installed fear in her, and unfortunately, the head of the Wesninski is one of those few.

Known as the Butcher of Baltimore, he is one of the reasons why half of her clients needed stitches. In term of looks, people would say that he is attractive—with a strong jaw and wide shoulders, deep red hair and pale blue eyes. Nothing much could be said about his personalities though. Cruel and sadistic, but efficient, the man is a fucking nightmare to deal with. She had always hated him, but her hatred slowly morphed into something akin to fear when she found out that he is going to marry her childhood friend.

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Boy."

"Healthy?"

"... Dead."

Whatever he was doing earlier came to a halt.

The Butcher would always smile when he tortured or killed his preys. A sharp, jagged smile, as sharp as the clever he used to cut his preys into pieces and as jagged as his twisted humour and mind. But now as she stood before him, with just a desk between them, she couldn't help but rethink her life decision when she couldn't see even a hint of a smile on the man's face. This is not the Butcher that she's dealing with, this is the man himself.

If the Wesninski's Butcher is a fucking nightmare, then Nathan Wesninski is a mystery that she doesn't ever want to solve.

"What do you mean by dead?"

"While a child's death during delivery is extremely rare, it's not impossible and the child contracted an infection, your wife has sustained ... an affliction and might unable to give birth to any more children you might want in the future."

As soon as those words left her mouth, she was caught off guard when someone pinned her to the ground. Grunting, she tried to push off the person on top of her, but when she felt the familiar prick of a knife on her side, she stopped struggling and huffed. Seeing a pair of sleek shoes from the corner of her eyes, she glared up at the man crouching beside her.

"Tell me, did he died naturally or did you killed him?" Just like his works, the Butcher doesn't bother to sugarcoat his words. Struggling in her hold, she bites out, "Who do you think I am? I may have been in this business since I was 14 years old and wouldn't hesitate to shove a scalpel into a man's throat, but if you think I would stoop to your level and killed a child—fuck you."

Nathan Wesninski stayed quiet for a couple seconds after her outburst, scrutinising her for lies and when he found none, he laughed. If his smile is jagged then his laugh is deranged.

"You're lucky that you're being protected by countless families and while on most days I might not care and just kill you right here and right now, I can't afford to have a war take place just yet." Standing up, the man walked out of her sight. "Get her out of here."

Pulled to her feet, she shoved the man who's holding her away and rolled her sore shoulder while shooting the smirking man a glare. "I can walk myself out."

 

* * *

 

She was languidly brushing her teeth when she was startled by a knock at the door. Grumbling under her breath, she spat and wiped her face before looking out of the window to see who's knocking. Green eyes identical to her own stared up at her and with a muttered curse, she grabbed the silk robe by the bed and went downstairs to open the door.

The face that greeted her when she opened the door was like looking into a mirror. From the dark circles under their eyes to the downturn of their lips, her brother has always looked like her the most since there wasn't much for them to remember what their parents looked like. Leaning against the doorframe and in turn blocking the entranceway, she crossed her arms and raised a single eyebrow.

"What?"

"Can't you at least invite me in?"

"... No."

Rolling his eyes at the childishness displayed by the older woman, the blond was about to retort something unpleasant when a shuffle behind his sister caught both of their attention. A child with messy red hair and sleepy blue eyes looked at the two adults standing at the door.

"Mummy... Uncle...?"

 

**— 26 MARCH 1996 —**

 

Sipping her cup of milk tea, she glared daggers at her brother's back over the rim as he prepared the ham and cheese quiche.

"I'm making breakfast for you, so please stop glaring at me. You're making me uncomfortable."

Gently putting down the cup—it's bone china, she glared twice as hard just to be petty. "Good."

"Uncle, what are you doing here?" The boy asked, curious, and with a tilt to her voice, she parrots back, "Yes, _uncle_ , what are you doing here?"

Sighing as he closed the oven, the blond reached over the bar table to ruffle his nephew's hair. "Uncle is here to have a talk with your mummy since apparently, your mummy doesn't know how to pick up her phone. Now, finished your milk and go upstairs to clean yourself up while we wait for the quiche to bake."

She helped her son out of the high chair when he had finished his drink and watched with a fond smile as the small feet ran upstairs. Turning her attention to her brother, she goes back to glaring.

"What is it that you want to talk about?" She asked, and the blond seemed reluctant when he said, "I need your help handling our business in the States."

"What's wrong with Clove? Last time I heard he was doing just fine."

"Well, he was doing fine until we found a traitor in his rank. To say that he was depressed would be an understatement." He said, immediately cutting to the chase and it took her a couple seconds to get the message through.

"What?"

He sighed, finally taking a seat beside her where her son just sat on. "We found out just two days ago that the disks we were supposed to keep safe for the Durand and the Valentini, including some of our money, were stolen. Fortunately for us, the thief was not smart enough to cover their trail and Kaffir tracked them down only to found out that they're one of Clove's people. I would go since he's under my command, but I'm busy bailing Cardamom out of custody and I can't ask anyone else to go in my stead since they also have their own problems to settle, so—will you go to the States for me?"

She had thought about it, about going back to the United State to pick up whatever she had left behind when she dropped everything to return to her homeland, but she knew that the stake was too high for her to risk it, especially when she no longer have the immunity that she once had. That, and she had a son now—to care of and protect.

"You do realize that once I step off the plane, it'll be open season."

"That wouldn't be a problem, I've already prepared everything—from legal documents to protections—for you, and that little one over there since I know you would want him to be with you."

Turning her head to where her brother was looking, she smiled when she saw her son coming out of hiding, looking abashed at being caught red-handed. Gesturing for the redhead to come closer, she got out of her seat to crouch down to her son's height.

"Abram, dear, do you want to go to the States with mummy?"

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a lazy writer and my muse rarely knocked my door, so don't expect any frequent update


End file.
